No more tears
by Guber
Summary: Clarice realizes that she loves Lecter, but what will happen when tragedy strikes and it might be too late? FINISH R:just to be on the safe side
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: You all know it... I don't own them and I am too poor to be sued.  
  
A/N This one is for Marcus for helping me with Red Dragon. Can't promise a time for the next chapter, but please do review it; after all, critique is what we writers live on.  
  
No more tears  
  
It was raining. It had been raining like this for the past two days. Washington was cloaked in a grayish light; it never seemed to be day. It was as if the day was caught between the night and dawn. The sky had started shedding its tears when Clarice had stopped shedding hers.  
  
It seemed pointless; it was two years since she had last seen Dr. Lecter. Two years since he chose to injure himself rather than hurting her. Two years since she learned that he loved her. It was only a few days since she learned that she loved Dr. Lecter.  
  
Though she knew she would never see him again, she was glad. Glad that she finally had seen the love shining through everything. Why he helped her, why he risked his own life to come and see her and why Miggs and Krendler ended the way they did. They were not acts done by a monster, how could that be?  
  
Clarice poured the fresh brewed coffee into a mug and watched the steam rising; how it danced all the way up into the air. A death dance that would eventually disappear, as if it had never been there. She walked over to the window and looked out on the sleeping city. It was still early, and it looked to be yet another day with rain. Clarice sipped the warm coffee; its warmth spreading all through her body, repressing the cold that had lingered there for too long.  
  
How things had changed. The FBI wanted nothing to do with her, but they didn't fire her. How could they? She was the victim, or so the press had made it out to be. The endless stacks of paper on her desk kept coming. She would never again be a field agent, not borrowed out to anyone. The FBI would bury her alive in the endless stacks of paper and eventually forget she existed. She had become a ghost. It wasn't unsatisfying, Clarice preferred it that way.  
  
Ardelia had gotten a permanent job in Boston. Ardi had been thrilled; she was to lead the task force there. Clarice smiled as she remembered Ardi saying, "a new field to hunt in" and Clarice had answered that the men didn't stand a chance. Clarice tried not to think about Boston being where Dr. Lecter had been. Ardi had extended invitations to come and visit her but Clarice had gently refused, not really giving any excuse.  
  
Clarice had moved out of the complex, she didn't want a new roommate. Instead she had found a small apartment in a neighborhood that was filled with life: children roaming the streets, cops busting the building every Friday and showing up unannounced on Sundays doing drug raids. The hall was filled with drug dealers and prostitutes. Her next-door neighbors were a couple who did nothing but scream at each other over the rent being used for drugs. The street at night was filled with echoes of gunshots and people crying for help.  
  
Clarice felt strangely at home in this mix of society's scum and losers. Ardi had been opposed to Clarice moving here but had eventually come around. It might be the scum and losers that lived here, but there were also nice people. People who didn't have a choice and those who wanted to hide away from the world. Clarice was not alone here. No one bugged her for being an agent, they all knew her story. And the only one who had ever dared to try anything couldn't walk for three weeks. Clarice took another sip of the coffee. The aroma that filled her nostrils was soothing.  
  
Two years, it was hard to believe it had been that long. Two years to come to terms with the fact that she was in love with a person who was everything she had vowed to rid the world of. Clarice ran a finger over her lips that still burned with his kiss; it would continue to burn forever.  
  
Clarice remembered his words to her, "Would you ever say to me stop, if you loved me, you'd stop?" She remembered her answer, "Not in a thousand years." Clarice knew that she had answered out of defiance and had asked herself, "How many possibilities are there in that answer?" But it wasn't the answer she would have given today. Silently, the words escaped her lips, "Stop, if you love me, you'd stop."  
  
Her words were carried away on the first beams of sunlight, it wouldn't rain today. The sun was breaking through. The first warm beams had reached the streets. She hoped that her words would reach him; nothing was impossible, not on a day like this. Clarice lowered the mug to the table and left the living room. It was about time to go to work. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two  
  
Far from Washington, in a Paradise, it stopped raining. The sun fought its way through the clouds and sent its warm beams of light over the country. The blue sea came to rest, and every living creature sighed in relief as myriads of life came out of hiding. Lavish sunlight fought every shadow, putting them on the run.  
  
On a porch, overlooking a beach, Arthur Fields stood barefooted in a black outfit with a glass of Chateau d'Yquem perfectly tempered and aired. His other hand was concealed in his pocket. It bore the scar of an almost fatal run-in with his favorite FBI agent. Only the white scar remained to speak of a once severed thumb. It throbbed as he remembered those last minutes together. He had known then that she would never let him run, let alone run with him, but he had proposed it nonetheless.  
  
His little Starling. His little angel of morals. And what was she doing now? Hiding away from the world and possibly him? Not even the Tattler could dig anything up. He had hoped that she would have broken away from those undeserving masters she so willingly served.  
  
People were roaming the beach now, children calling out for their parents, half-naked teenage girls capturing the attention of older men's hungry eyes, while the wives were trying to keep track of their kids. It was chaos and the noise drove Arthur inside.  
  
It was a small cottage, by Arthur's standards, yet it held a living room, a library, a fairly large kitchen and the top floor had two large bedrooms and a luxury bathroom. Bach began to fill the air, drowning out the noise from the beach. As Arthur sat in his chair facing his desk, he closed his eyes as Clarice's words from their last conversation filled his memory.  
  
He would set it right. She needed time. He knew she had seen his love for her; she almost had a fearful look upon her face. That single tear was her price, the price she had paid for this realization. She had the love of a monster, what did that make her? Arthur mused on this. Yes, he could see her dilemma. He could almost taste the salty tears she would, and most probably had, shed. Yes, she would know when it was time and so would he. It was more than common stars; they were bound, beyond time, space and life itself.  
  
Arthur left his chair and went to the open door, looking out over the landscape. It was getting darker outside. How long had he sat there lost in thought? It did not matter. Bach was quiet, and the voices from the beach were gone as well. There was a chill in the evening air. Arthur knew that something was about to happen somewhere. He was surprised to find himself fearing that it might have something to do with his rescuing angel. He had set in motion her journey to self-awareness, could it be her future actions that he sensed now? There was electricity in the quiet air, something was beginning to stir. Fun?  
  
Arthur returned to the living room and sat at the piano gently tickling the ivories. Soft tones filled the air around him, flowing from the cottage, further and further away from Paradise.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Clarice was returning home from work after yet another uneventful day and endless stacks of paper. She had endured the looks filled with hatred and resentment. There was no one left at Quantico to care about her. With Mr. Crawford gone, there was no one to save her from the vultures, others had taken Krendler's place. But what disturbed her most was that she didn't care to be saved. She knew of another salvation, one that was so much more desirable.  
  
As so often before, her thoughts returned to Dr. Lecter. She would not blame herself for her answer. It had been said and she would bear the cost as best she could. It wasn't about seeking forgiveness for the choices she had made; it was about understanding why she had made them.  
  
The sun cast long shadows, the Mustang's motor roared as she turned the ignition key, and the car left the parking lot of Quantico. As the car moved the familiar way home, Clarice felt a void in her chest. Against all logic it hurt, almost bringing her to tears. She had to pull over to try to gain control over herself. The pain grew to be almost unbearable and it demanded attention. The car came to a full stop outside a shop; it wasn't far from her own neighborhood.  
  
Clarice got out of her car; her ragged breathing remained while the slight dizziness disappeared. Clarice knew she had to act. She might have been trying to convince her mind that it was for the best but her body; no, her heart disagreed. She would have to find him, she had to try. If for nothing else than to set her heart at ease.  
  
Clarice heard a car's whining wheels and just as she turned, a burning pain cut through her stomach, shoulder and arm. An invisible force threw her against the wall; her legs buckled under her making the pavement her final stop. All that rushed through Clarice's head was that she hadn't had a chance to speak with Dr. Lecter. A single tear slid down her face before she lost consciousness.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED. 


	3. Chapter 2 part 2

Disclaimer: Why bother?  
  
Chapter two: Part two.  
  
As Arthur Fields grew older, he found that he measured his history in terms of milestones. Those intense moments would never leave his memory: the loss of Mischa, his first kill, his incarceration, his fateful meeting of Clarice Starling and their stormy goodbye. Milestones all of them, marked indelibly on the engrams of his memory.  
  
And among them, he would always remember the cold, terrifying feeling of loss that came over him as he watched the news.  
  
It was all over the news; there was not one in Washington or, for that matter, the rest of the civilised world who did not know. As bright as the day had seemed earlier, now it was clouding up again. People were hurrying home to their families, to their constant arguing, demanding but, nonetheless, loving families.  
  
Special agent Ardelia Mapp, who had just returned home, heard it on the news as well. Her feelings were comparable to those of the one far away. They had nothing in common except the love they had for a certain agent.  
  
~FBI's death angel, Clarice M. Starling, was shot earlier this morning. Shortly after leaving her car, a drive-by shooting took place. Agent Starling was among several injured. Both the FBI and Washington PD are trying to track the shooters; in the meantime, Agent Starling is not expected to survive her injuries. ~  
  
Arthur Fields, monster, murderer, sociopath, cannibal, a known madman, the man was shocked. He knew that this event was but a sigh in what was to be a rather long journey, a journey for both Clarice Starling and himself. Things had been set in motion, with no regard for time.  
  
Arthur Fields prepared for his journey to lay claim to his bird, he would not stand for this anymore. He could and would not lose the only one he had ever loved so dearly. It was time she saw it too. Her place was at his side. He had, after all, waited more than a decade for her to come around.  
  
~~~  
  
Agent Ardelia Mapp rushed out the door on her way to her friend. It had hit her hard to hear it on the news. Ardelia briefly wondered who was listed as next-of-kin if anything should happen to Clarice. Clearly, it had not been Ardelia. But that was not of importance now. Ardelia feared the worst but hoped for the best.  
  
~~~  
  
Arthur Fields finally set foot in Washington; it was as he had remembered it. The people were like buzzing bees seeking nectar from flowers. They were on the street in great numbers, going from building to building, making their daily routine their whole existance. Arthur Fields dressed casually and walked the streets with ease. His movements were unhurried and graceful. Where the others had their daily routine, he had his unpredictability. Where others were seeking a rich, materialistic life, he sought freedom in every form. He had the means to live as he saw fit; therefore, he was free in a way they were not.  
  
Arthur Fields shopped for what he needed. He had rented a nice little cottage outside of town; it would serve as home till Clarice was fit enough to travel. And furthermore, it would also work nicely in Clarice's recovery. But what was most important was that it was secluded from the public, and it would not be a place the FBI would look.  
  
Arthur could almost taste the venom in those three letters. They were nothing more than a mockery, an embarrassment to themselves. Though his face had lost its place as the centerpiece on the ten most-wanted list, he was still a very wanted man. Yet here he was in their "hometown" and they didn't have a clue.  
  
He unloaded the supplies he had bought then took his seat behind the wheel of a black pick-up and drove out of Washington.  
  
~~~  
  
Ardelia sat by Clarice's bed. It had been three days since the shooting but there was still no sign from Clarice that she intended to return to life among the living. It was almost as if she was waiting for something to happen or for someone to come. "Someone other than me," Ardelia thought dryly. She looked at Clarice who looked more at peace than she ever had before.  
  
Ardelia knew that it had been hard on Clarice, with all the things that had gone wrong since she had agreed to work with Crawford all those years back. And she knew that what had perhaps hurt Clarice more than anything was the lack of advancement in the FBI. Ardelia had had no problems, she was, in fact, still rising. She hoped that one day she would be able to help Clarice.  
  
Ardelia was so lost in her reverie that she did not notice the doctor who had entered the room. He stopped short of the bed and Ardelia, for a moment observing the scene.  
  
He could not wait long. If he was to get her away unnoticed, he had to move now. He spoke in his best western drawl, disturbing Clarice's friend.  
  
"Excuse me, Miss," he waited. When nothing happened, he put his hand on her shoulder. Ardelia looked up into the face of an older man who seemed to be a doctor, into eyes that were captivating. Ardelia found herself wanting to ask him out even though he seemed to be somewhat older than herself. He spoke again.  
  
"Excuse me, Miss, but I have to take her. There are some examinations we need to make." His voice was every bit as mesmerizing as his eyes. Ardelia nodded and watched as he guided her bed down the hall into a service elevator.  
  
Ardelia stood in the hall watching the life of the hospital revolve around her, not knowing who had taken her best friend for the ride of her life. Ardelia closed her eyes for a second, remembering the look of those eyes that seemed to bare her soul for the world to see. "For him to see," she shuddered.  
  
To be continued. (I hope within the near future. Who knows, I have to read Harry Potter 5 first.) 


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter three  
  
Dr. Lecter stood over Clarice. She was so at peace, a peace he knew was new, the lambs had been silence and he found himself wondering what knowledge, which epiphany had silenced them.  
  
The room was gently lit with candles, Dr. Lecter didn't want to see his little bird in the cruel light of a light bulb, he enjoyed seeing how the flames played over her soft features.  
  
He leaned in over her and took a deep breath; her scent was like a flower on a spring morning. He traced his finger along her face coming to rest on her lower lip. How he would have loved to touch her lips with his own, but now was not the time, it was time for her healing.  
  
He returned to seat in the corner observing her as he had so many times before, time did not exist, not with a sight so pleasing to the eye, his Clarice, her clam breathing was like heavenly music. To be in her presence was heaven it self.  
  
Clarice was conscious, but she did not want to open her eyes, she did not want to open her eyes to find herself in a world without him, it hurt too much, it hurt more then the physical pain in her head and the rest of her muscles. She slowly remembered what had happen, how the bullets had thrown her backward, for at last to collapse on the ground beneath her, she remembered the liberating feeling as she had acknowledge her feelings for Dr. Lecter, how her heart felt light, the burden that had weighed her down for so long had lifted and left her almost flying. But he was gone now; she wanted to call out for him, hoping that, as if by magic he would appear to take her away from the masters she so willingly had served, the masters that would sacrifice her, given the chance and the need for a scapegoat. Dr. Lecter had been right, they were undeserving, she now saw how blinded she had been. A smile spread through her inside as she mused on whether she should have taken the good word of a cannibal, known madman or that of an organization who only served their own good.  
  
Clarice was aware of the silence there was around her and found it strange, all logical thought told her, that she should be in a hospital, but her surroundings told her a different story.  
  
There was a sublet light force in the room, so gentle that it could not be a light bulb, it even flickered, Clarice eased one eye open and was surprised by the sight presented to her, she opened the other, pleased when the light didn't bother her. She was on a four poster bed in a room filled with candles, and a pleasing sent was in the air.  
  
She hoped as she had never scares hope before, all this could only mean one thing, that he had heard her, that he came to take her away, that miracles do happen. She could not see anyone in the room, could not hear any, only the sound of her own ragged breathing that penetrated the silence. "Dr. Lecter?" it came out vague, as a wish, a hope she had never before uttered out aloud, never before acknowledge to her self. There was a short silence, her breath caught in her throat, as she waited and hoped.  
  
"Good evening Clarice" she started breathing again, his words fulfilling a dream long since taken form, back in the days when the dungeon was the scene of their talks and the beginning of a passion. All the words she wanted to speak eluded her, suddenly there was nothing to say, he was here, now..... That was all she wanted and needed, at least for now. A mysterious smile spread across her lips as she closed her eyes, sure that the voice she had heard was not in her dreams, not conjured in her fantasy, that it would be there when she woke again.  
  
Dr. Lecter remained in the shadows, a smile was on his lips as well, her voice, so without fear, searching for him, reaching out and letting him taste a piece of Heaven. Yes he had heard her, her desperate call for him and now he would never let her go again. Their time was now. Dr. Lecter retreated into his memory palace, where every letter he had written to her, every contact, every touch he had ever made with Clarice was a vivid as had it been merely hours ago.  
  
Clarice dreamed of Dr. Lecter, it was inevitable, his close proximity would allow nothing less nor would she herself. She dreamed of how his fingers made slow caresses on her jaw line, her lower lip trembled of the promise of his kiss but there were none. She dreamed she felt deprived. Deprived feelings and experiences where no longer just centered about not feeling his kiss, but of the years that had vanished with out a trace. Clarice wanted to cry, she dreamed of her tears running hot down her cheeks, when somewhere distant, she heard her name called, it as well sounded as a caress, like a promise of things to come. But it was so far away, the voice, hypnotic, calm almost demanding. "Wake Clarice..... Wake and feel......" the voice died out. Clarice wanted to wake but she was too tired, that voice, it was his, she wanted to hear more of it, she wanted his voice to caress her, she wanted to loose herself in it revel in it. But his voice was lost in the fog of sleep, in the wake of dreams, all her dreams would be of him, his voice, his lips, hands and those captivating eyes, that would hold her heart forever capture. To Clarice it did not matter, her life was him, her every breath was only to be longer in his presence, every heartbeat was for his heart alone, her soul called out for his, she could not live without him. The epiphany should have scared her, but in her dreams it was, as if coming home after a long journey to discover her own true meaning. Her destiny.  
  
And so she dreamed of things to come, of him and their future she knew they would have.  
  
Dr. Lecter sat in his chair with a glass of Chãteau Pétrus, its red color played with the light from the candles. Dr. Lecter's thoughts returned to Dante. Dante and his Beatrice, yes how much they truly had in common, but he would posses his Clarice, and she would forever posses him. His rich voice filled the room with the words of Dante and his own heart.  
  
"Of those long hours wherein the stars, above,  
Wake and keep watch, the fourth was almost nought  
When love was shown me with such terrors fraught  
As may not carelessly be spoken of.  
He seem'd like one who is full of joy, and had  
My heart within his hand, and on his arm  
My lady, with a mantle round her, slept;  
Whom (having waken'd her) anon he made  
To eat that heart; she ate, as fearing harm.  
Then he went out; and as he went, he wept."  
  
Clarice wakened to his spoken words; the meaning did not elude her. Her eyes remained closed. The silence stretched out, the only sound in the room was Clarice's breathing. The minutes ticked away, and finally Clarice opened her eyes, she looked over the room, but they did not find Dr. Lecter, though she could not see him, she somehow knew he was in the corner covered by the shadows. She sat up in the bed, suppressing a groan as pain shot through her body, instead she clenched her teeth, and pulled the blanket with her. And for the first time, she noticed, she was dressed in a white silk negligee. He had once again dressed her as he saw fit and she wondered just how many times he had seen her nakedness, a warmth feeling spread throughout her body, her mind fought for control, so as not to let the blush surface for him to see and know her thoughts.  
  
"Dr. Lecter?" her voice was soft as she sent her question out into the room searching for him. "mmmh and so sleeping beauty awakens. I trust you slept well?.....Clarice" the voice did not betray Dr. Lecter's location in the room, instead it filled out the volume, as if it would take passion of every fiber in the room.  
  
The only logical question that clouded her mind jumped from her throat as if it would clear her mind. "How did I get here?" There was silence for a minute. "I should think that was obvious Clarice" he drew out every syllable of her name, as he had always done. For a second Clarice was back in the dungeon with Dr. Lecter mocking her cheap shoes. Clarice remained silent and leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes. She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to clear her mind and concentrate on what was ahead of her, the decisions that had to be made, though they were already made in her heart. She contemplated getting out of bed, but the reminder of the pain earlier was more then enough to convince her to stay where she was.  
  
"Dr. Lecter...." Silence. "Dr. Lecter, please come out into the light." Her voice bore more strength. There was slight movement from the shadowy corner and then his massive form stepped ever so slightly into the light. Clarice's breath was caught in her throat as her eyes moved up his body to lock with his maroon gaze. Both heard when she started breathing again.  
  
"Are you feeling better?" his voice somehow broke through her haze of thoughts. His voice gently demanded an answer. Clarice contemplated her answer, should she bite back at his earlier mockery or be honest. The ladder seemed best, taken into consideration Dr. Lecter's taste for honesty. "I feel like I've been run over. How long have I been out?"  
  
"Is time of any importance Clarice?" he remained where he was, holding her eyes captured. "should it be?" Clarice returned back, she never knew how much she had missed their mind-games. "no more then you would wish it to be" "I don't wish it to exist, but it does none the less." Her voice was filled with anguish, pain and sorrow for the years that had passed between them."  
  
Suddenly tired from all her emotional stress, she started to lie down when a terrible pain ripped through her and a half scream left her lungs, tears threatened to fall, but she somehow managed to keep them at bay. Dr. Lecter was at her side with one fluid motion, he might as well have flown and she would not have known the difference, he gently eased her down unto the mattress, and pulled the blanket over her. His were eyes filled with concern.  
  
He conjured a syringe. "This will help you sleep" he did not allow her an answer before giving her the medicine. "Sleep my dear." Clarice mumbled her last coherent thought. "Stay...." And everything went black, though she felt his weight in the bed as he settled in next to her. His eyes was as always, ever watchful.  
  



	5. Chapter 4, the final

Disclaimer: Harris owns em, I just borrow them from time to time.  
  
A/N okay here it is, a bit late I will admit, but you know the saying better late than never. The previous chapters have been dusted off and some of the mistakes have been corrected. I would also like to thank a friend who have helped this story through all it's rough times. And thanks to all who have reviewed my story so far. So here it is..... ENJOY!!!  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Clarice woke up several hours later. She opened her eyes and saw how the room was filled with a soft golden light and the scent of lavender from the candles that were lit around the room.  
  
For the briefest moment, she thought it had all been a dream, that Dr. Lecter's presence had been a figment of her imagination. Clarice searched for traces of him and found that the pillow had an impression of his head and knew that he had been there, next to her, just as she had asked. Clarice buried her nose in the pillow and inhaled the scent that was so uniquely his.  
  
It surprised Clarice that she had asked, but now, in light of recent events, she wished that she had been awake while he had been there with her. A flush made its way to her face, her thoughts were taking a direction she had long forgotten but now they reminded her of their existence. Clarice brought her hand up and let it rest on the pillow. A powerful longing filled her soul unlike anything she had ever felt before, it bordered on pain. She closed her eyes, picturing him as he had been in her dream.  
  
Time passed without Clarice acknowledging it, she walked to the window lost in thought gazing out into the night, the moon and stars vying for supremacy in the clear night sky. She felt no chill; the scented candles provided a warm and cozy atmosphere. She was aware of Dr. Lecter the second he entered the room. She turned around and met his eyes; those deep maroon eyes she could lose herself in so easily.  
  
To Hannibal, she was like a vision from a dream. Clarice was clad in silver moonlight making her, as impossible as it seemed to him, even more beautiful as she stood before him in her cream coloured nightgown, her auburn hair cascading down. It was a dream he had many years ago in a dungeon, a place where he had been without pleasant dreams for such a long time. Clarice had been his salvation when he thought he would have none. She had been a breath of fresh air that he had been granted for reasons he didn't grasp; and now, she would be his.  
  
Clarice suddenly noticed that she had been holding her breath. She let it out in a sigh that carried with it his given name. Their eyes remained locked on each other's. She had no idea if she had said his name out loud or if she had merely imagined doing so. Her thinking was unnaturally slow yet it didn't bother her. She focused on remembering how to breathe.  
  
He approached her. In his eyes, there was passion, desire, pure lust and something else. Clarice couldn't look away from his captivating eyes. She found herself being pressed up against his chest. His body threatened to make her lose herself, forgetting who he was, what he was, the world around her, and to lose herself in a world of desire, pleasure and passion that had been building within her for the past decade.  
  
He ran his hands lightly up her arms, settling them on her shoulders then drawing her closer, dangerously closer, pressing her even tighter to his strong, hard body. Only mere millimetres separated their lips and they breathed the same air. His hand moved up to her cheek and trailed down to her lips as he drew back to allow some space between them, though his body remained close to hers.  
  
He studied her closely. "Are your injuries troubling you in any way?"  
  
"No," Clarice answered. "Only some minor twinges."  
  
Clarice thought of the other twinges she was feeling that moment that had nothing to do with any injury and blushed. This was so new in her experience: this passion, this feeling that threatened to consume her.  
  
"Clarice..." he said her name unlike any other had before. His voice was so filled with such tenderness and love. Clarice could have melted right there had his strong arms not been around her.  
  
"Hannibal......" Clarice did not get a chance to say anything else, he captured her lips and silenced her.  
  
They fed off and devoured each other, but still it was not enough. He held her firmly against his body, needing to feel that she was real, needing to feel that she was his, body and soul. Clarice lost herself in his hot kisses and his warm embrace. Clothes became an annoying obstacle. Clarice fumbled with the buttons and tugged at his shirt, to finally slide her hands up his bared chest, feeling his heat, pushing the shirt off his shoulders, which fell unnoticed to the floor. Hannibal deepened the kiss and all rational thought became impossible. Their mouths performed a dance of seduction, his tongue stroked and teased hers; all the while moving her towards the bed.  
  
Hannibal lifted his hands from their place on her hips to her shoulders. He worked the straps of her gown off and held her eyes for a brief moment before the gown slid down her body to puddle on the floor, revealing to him the perfect body of Clarice. Though he had seen her nakedness before, it had never been with her consent or awareness. He was unprepared for the rush of emotions that hit him and his breath hiked in his throat. "You are magnificent, Clarice. You are truly a goddess amongst mortals and gods alike." His voice was deep with arousal and emotion. His hand came up to cup her breast as he bestowed another thrilling kiss. His other hand found its way to her lower back as he gently lay her on the bed, carefully covering her naked body with his half-dressed one. Clarice welcomed the feel of his body against her own and her arms encircled him while pressing her body up to meet his more fully.  
  
He kissed her soft lips, the contours of her face and her throat. His tongue sought out her already erect nipples, as he drew them into his hot mouth. Clarice let out a moan, arching her back. Hannibal's hand made its way down past her navel and slipped into the moistened folds, his fingers stroking and exploring her. Clarice gasped and writhed under his ministrations.  
  
He clasped her to him, kissing her hard, letting her know how great his need for her was. Clarice looked into his eyes, her need for him shining through. Years of repressed desire and intense love fuelled the flames as the fire grew to an inferno, engulfing both of them in a world of their own. Nothing else existed but the pleasure they were giving and receiving.  
  
With a natural grace, he shed the remainder of his clothes, then returned to the embrace of the woman he loved, kissing her deeply as he penetrated her. They shared a moment of utter stillness, where it seemed like even the molecules in the air stood still. He started moving again, slowly at first, letting her get used to him. But soon the sensation of her moist warmth, her gentle cries of pleasure as he touched her within, caused him to move with a reckless abandon. Clarice's hips joined his in the most primal of all dances, as their climaxes shook their bodies. Her name slipped from his lips as he collapsed beside her.  
  
They laid in silence, catching their breath. He drew her to him as he covered them with a blanket. Hannibal stared at the ceiling, contemplating his choices. He loved her deeply, but the life he led was dangerous. His heart felt like lead. He could not offer her to live like that, but he knew he could not let her go either. He would not let her go!  
  
Unaware of the expressions that had passed over his face, Clarice saw the decision he was about to make. She rose on one elbow looking down on him, with resolution on her face. Her fingers came to rest on his lips as he looked into her eyes.  
  
"I love you, Hannibal Lecter, and I will not allow us to be parted, not until death do us part," Clarice whispered before placing a searing kiss on her lover's lips that left no room for doubt of her feelings for him. It took him mere seconds to understand her words, to finally believe that she was his and that she loved him. Somewhere deep inside he had feared that she would ask him to stop and leave him. Her words had forever sealed her fate to his and though it was sealed so many years ago, there was no going back now. He wondered if there ever had been....  
  
The morning sun was rising, casting its light through the window banishing the dark. It was a new day, a new beginning. He had his love with him now and though they would always be sought after, they would always be together, living in their own world, sharing their love.  
  
As Clarice watched him standing near the window, she felt such a joy over their new life and the future they would embark on together. As she let her love for Hannibal flow through her, filling her, embracing him and being returned, she knew that there would be no more tears.  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
The first time I loved forever  
  
Was when you whispered my name  
  
And I knew at once you loved me  
  
For the me of who I am  
  
The first time I loved forever  
  
I cast all else aside  
  
And I bid my heart to follow  
  
Be there no more need to hide  
  
And if wishes and dreams are merely for children  
  
And if love's a tale for fools  
  
I'll live the dream with you  
  
For all my life and forever  
  
There's a truth I'll always know  
  
When my world divides and shatters  
  
Your love is where I'll go.  
  
From Beauty and the beast television series.  
  
~~FINI~~ 


End file.
